


The Thing With Feathers

by dazzler



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 05:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7347181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazzler/pseuds/dazzler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A morning with Ysayle and Lucia after the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thing With Feathers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thalassashells](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalassashells/gifts).



> thanks for the request baha, this was super fun to write!!

On the morning of their departure, Lucia wakes with a start from a dream. Well, she doesn’t know whether to call it a dream or not-- it is the memory of that night haunting her, fires flashing in the sky, Hraesvalgr’s voice in her head roaring  _ SAVE HER _ loud enough to split her skull.

Halone forgive her, that’s what she did.

“Dove,” she says, pushing Ysayle’s hair off of her neck and pressing a kiss to her nape, “Dove, ‘tis time to wake up.” 

Ysayle makes a grumbling noise not unlike an annoyed dragon and rolls over, tugging the blankets over her head. 

“I’ll make you breakfast,” Lucia says. 

“Is that a threat,” comes the muffled reply. 

Lucia rolls her eyes and begins to dress, pulling on a comfortable set of clothes for travelling. “I should drop by Aymeric’s office before we go, make certain he’ll be alright when I leave.” 

“The state shall undoubtedly collapse without you,” says Ysayle. She sits up and yawns. Her hair is a tangled mess. Lucia tried to convince her to cut it shorter, as her own, but Ysayle was far too attached to it. Only privately does Lucia wonder if it has something to do with Shiva. 

Even so, she’s the one who looks radiant at the moment; the sun streaming through the windows, lighting her up like fresh-fallen snow. Lucia wants to lean over and kiss her, so she does. 

“Vedrfolnir might be upset if we aren’t there on time,” she says even as she allows herself to be tugged back into bed and gathered up in Ysayle’s arms. 

“An hour to a dragon is less than the blink of an eye,” says Ysayle sagely. 

Lucia makes a face. “Yes, organizing peace talks is rather difficult when the other party keeps showing up a week late.” 

“They’ve gotten better,” Ysayle says. She rests her chin on Lucia’s shoulder. “We’ve all had to adjust to one another in little ways.” 

Lucia tucks a stray lock of hair behind Ysayle’s ear. “None of this would be possible without you, dove.” 

She ducks her head, embarrassed. “Well then, what shall we do with our extra hour?” 

“Mm. Better make it two.” 

Lucia kisses a line down Ysayle’s neck and Ysayle laughs, a bright and warm sound that makes her heart soar.


End file.
